Time to party!

What the hell, you decide. You're only going to be in college once. Hopefully, at least. You may as well get the full experience. You throw on some nicer clothes and head out into the night to look for a party.

It's a warm, pleasant night, and you wander the campus for a few minutes before getting any leads. The area your dorm is in is mostly dormitories, but after a few minutes you get the sense that several people you're seeing are headed in the same direction. You quietly follow a giggling pair of girls who seem like they're headed to a party for a while, and sure enough you find them leading you to the edge of campus, where a large, ramshackle wooden house is brightly lit and practically bursting with music and people. A frat house. Perfect.

As you follow the girls up the house's front walk, you hang back slightly to hear their conversation with the two frat bros who are on door duty. Each frat bro has a girl wearing a tight dress with him - presumably their maidservants - and one of them holds up a hand to the visiting girls as they approach.

"Hey hey, ladies. Welcome to Delta Omega Mu!" He grins cheekily. "Glad you're here - ladies get in free. But I gotta see your student IDs first, this is a campus-only party."

"Sure thing," one of the girls, a curly redhead with freckles, says cheerily, passing the IDs over. The guy glances over them, then hands them back, smirking.

"Ok, welcome welcome, Amy and Chanelle - did I say that right?" The other girl, a skinny girl who looks like she might be Indian, nods. "Oh good. Well, come on in - but first, you'll need a drinks stamp. Chrissy, Megan, if you would?" The two girls posted at the door begin to apply a coat of lipstick as the guy grins. "Amy, Chanelle, you'll have to take your tops off for a sec - or pull 'em down, whatever you prefer."

"Huh?" Amy asks. The guy laughs.

"It's a security thing," he says with an even broader grin. "We've got a proprietary shade of lipstick for the frat...it's our way of signaling to the guys working the bar that we checked your ID and you can drink. The girls here'll give you the stamp. In a fun place!"

"So we...we have to go around with our tops off?" Chanelle asks uncertainly.

"Nah. You just have to flash our boys at the bar when you wanna drink!" he says with a laugh. "C'mon, they're workin' hard. It's not so bad."

"Oh, come on, Chanelle," Amy says. She's wearing a tight white tank top, and pulls both the top of the tank and her bra below that down and to the side, getting out a nice pair of pale, perky B-cups. "It's just for a minute...let these morons have their fun."

"I...I guess..." Chanelle says. She's wearing a loose, flowy blue top, and she hesitantly pulls the front of it up to her shoulders - revealing that she's not wearing a bra at all! Her brown skin breaks out in gooseflesh as she exposes herself - she's got small but nicely shaped breasts. The two frat girls swoop in for the kill immediately, each one latching onto one of the girl's tits and taking a nipple in their mouths, suckling gently as they press their lips firmly into the girls' flesh. Chanelle gasps and Amy grins at the treatment.

After what seems like definitely longer than it had to be, the frat girls pull back with wet pops, leaving (you assume) nice clear lipstick prints on the freshman girls' tits. The guys sitting there applaud. "Nicely done, ladies. Entre, entre. Try not to get those smudged if you wanna drink, huh?" Chanelle pulls her top down, blushing, and Amy puts her tits away with a laugh before pulling the other girl through the door.

You step up onto the stoop and the frat bro raises his eyebrow at you. "Enjoy the show?"

"Yeah," you say with a little laugh.

"Our pleasure. You didn't bring your bitch?"

"Uh....no."

He shrugs. "Whatever. That's $5 for you, then." You fumble in your wallet and get out the money, passing it over to him.

"Where's my drinks stamp go?" you ask, feeling a bit bold.

"On your wrist, dumbass. You wanna get your dick wet, you'll have to do it yourself." He takes your hand and gives you a smiley-face stamp on your wrist, looking amused. "Go on in. Have a good time." You sigh inwardly and head inside.

Once you're in the house, though, your pulse quickens - it's not that late yet, but this party is already bursting with energy. The front hall is full of people just milling around, and directly ahead, past the staircase, you can see a wide open room that's clearly some kind of common dining space. That area's been cleared except for an intriguing, solid-looking five-foot-high plinth that's got a large sign on the front of it simply reading, in crude, painted letters, "THE STUD." That should be...interesting.

At the moment, though, the rooms to either side seem to be where the action's at. To your left is what is clearly the main dance floor of the party: you can see bodies whirling, strobing lights, and pulsing club music is flooding out the doorway. To your right is what looks like a (slightly) quieter room where people seem to be hanging on couches, talking, and playing some drinking games.